Garfield Minus Garfield

It never ceases to amaze me the things people will do with their spare time. Turns out some dude decided to digitally remove Garfield from all of the Garfield comic strips to make his owner look like a bigger loser than he is. The thought of him standing there talking to himself is pretty funny though.

And Through Their Strange Hours We Linger Alone

I guess it's time to break my silence. I finally have a couple hours of spare time thanks to the careless ignorance I am throwing towards a beautiful day.

It's was a busy week, personally, and on the news front. We went through the loss of Ed, Farrah, and MJ, and the chaos of Iran continues to escalate.

I've always had this really strange deal with death. I don't know, it's hard to explain, but a celebrity death always seems to serve as a reminder that a chapter of my life is gone. I take it as a very personal thing, and sometimes I find all of the 'talk' a little overwhelming. I actually had to leave my local watering hole on Friday simply because people would not shut up with their MJ jokes or even just the news in itself.

I know the coverage has been a little controversial. There are many different angles to it. I mean you have Ed who fought for his country moving all the way up through the ranks to colonel. A man who was the goodnight voice of generations. You have Farrah who fought a very public and courageous battle with a demon for three years. And you have MJ, who by most accounts was little more than a side show freak. We all know where the coverage went, I'm not going to argue that point anymore. If you don't know the current state of our society, you should jump off of a building, or at least turn off the TV.

I just want to justify it in my way.

Let's start with Michael. There could be no other ending. Think about it. This was the only way out. A bizarre and sad ending to a bizarre and sad life. I never 'got' Michael. I never liked his music for the most part, and I thought he was a creep of a person. But everyone has their story, and he is entitled to that. But at the end of the day, he wasn't going to be rolling into the Grammy Awards in a wheelchair while in his 70's. This had to be the ending. And the sheep eat it up. Think of what really would have happened if we had the types of electronic media we have today when Elvis died. It would have been insane. It already was then.

We had one of the most important elections in the history of the world only a matter of months ago, and what shatters are known records of Internet usage? MJ's death. Crazy. Simply crazy. But in the end, that is all his life was....one big show. If they had timed it right, they could have sold tickets. A very sad ending. But there is a positive side.....

With the passing of Michael, the light was drawn away from Farrah. I don't think she wanted the light. She passed in dignity, she left us in grace, just as when she adorned the magazine covers of our youth. I'm glad the spotlight was taken from her, the bullshit media would have only focused on the Letterman incident anyhow. Hell, we all have off nights. And I'm quite sure my friends are thankful that I don't drag a video camera around with me.

And finally Ed. This is something we are just going to have to get used to. There aren't many left, and when these older fella's pass, there is really nobody left to pay them tribute. I don't want freakin' Ryan Seacrest telling me the virtue's of Ed McMahon. One of the only guys left that can talk about any of these guys with credibility is Don Rickles, and even he is not long for this world. I have my memories of Ed, and that's good enough for me.

So if you're angry about the last week, let it go. It all happened for a reason. And each and every one of them were honored in the manor I think they would have wanted.

Pickle Surprise

My buddy Dan posted this goddamn thing about a year ago. It gets me in stitches everytime. The problem is, I can't get the freakin' thing out of my head once I see it. I finally forget about it, then he posts it again.

Dan...I am begging. I am pleading. Stop the madness!!

Every Once In a While There is a News Story That Makes You Go What the @#$%!!

That's the Fact Jack

I was in Cranbrook this week on business. I hadn't been there before and found it to be a gem of a little town. I only wish I had my own car to tie a bow on those mountain roads, but alas no. I was stuck with a rented Pontiac Vibe. Ugh!! Things didn't really go as planned up there, but I'm used to that, and I look forward to future visits.

Miley the beautiful graduated high school yesterday as well, and I couldn't be more proud of her. I haven't heard from her yet, so hopefully the party isn't still going.

I still find myself incredibly short on time. Today especially I find my eyes wondering from my laptop screen to the window beside my desk dreaming about a perfect spot on the beach with a charged ipod.

So today I am going to borrow a page from Mr. Letterman and post some little known facts that you can carry with you and ponder over the weekend.

Without further ado, little known facts:

On two separate occasions , Gandhi broke his fast with tacos.

The 50 stars on the United States flag stand for the 50 ways to leave your lover.

As brilliant as Albert Einstein was, he could never talk Mrs. Einstein into a three-way.

Few ranchers actually use ranch dressing.

The word "apple" comes from the latin word meaning "apple."

Thanks to a sophisticated robot developed by Japanese inventors, it now only takes one to tango.

The film Snakes on a Plane is very loosely based on a novel by Jane Austen.

Other than nuclear weaponry, the only difference between North and South Korea is that South Korea uses the designated hitter.

The Native American who cried in the classic anti-pollution commercial also cried in a commercial for Dentyne.

Major League Baseball contends the only thing keeping Pete Rose out of the Hall of Fame is his soup-bowl haircut.

Tony Bennett also left an umbrella stand in San Francisco.

In February 1981, the Dalai Lama won 14,000 dollars on Card Sharks.

Medical experts say if Elvis hadn't died of heart failure on August 16, 1977, he probably would have died of heart failure on August 17, 1977.

The television show Lassie ran for a 140 years in dog-years.

Apple has spent nearly 200 million dollars trying to develop a wooden iPod for the Amish.

Katherine Hepburn's last words were, "Read me some more of those 'you might be a redneck' jokes."

Socrates was the first person to ask why we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway.

In the days before limousines, people flaunted their wealth by riding very long horses.

In 1979, Pope John Paul II declared the microwave oven a miracle.

Until 1970, the United States Census Bureau kept track of people who looked "shifty."

According to complaints from his wife, elevator pioneer Elisha Otis refused to go down.

Theologians now believe the Last Supper may have been more of a brunch.

People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive is seventh in line to the presidency.

In 1976, the Kentucky Derby was won by a couple of fraternity guys in a horse costume.

Fortune cookies are the world's only clairvoyant snack.

Eva Braun's parents felt she could do much better than Hitler.

Because of an onion allergy, the singer Meat Loaf can't eat meat loaf.

Burt Bacharach ends every concert by flipping over his piano.

Despite the name, most gravy boats are not seaworthy.

Researchers at Sara Lee have spent nearly three billion dollars trying to find a way for people to have their cake and eat it too.

Before a budget cut, the Lincoln Memorial's chair was supposed to come with a matching ottoman.

Part 2

So Jamie continued to bang on doors. I finally saw a light come on in the back of the house, and a dark shadow made its way through the kitchen to the door. The door swung open, it was one of the guys who soon laced Jamie for banging on the door and waking them all up.

We wondered into her and Janet's room first to kick their air mattress of a bed and tried to wake Janet up to no avail. We managed to squeeze a few expletives out of her, but that was about it.

We headed back to the kitchen and Jamie offered me an Old Milwaukee. I didn't see a scrap of furniture anywhere, other than a few stand alone kitchen chairs. All of the sudden the guys started turning up from everywhere. Doors were opening and closing, there were dull thumps on the stairs, and I could swear one came out of a closet as well. Before I knew it there were eight guys standing in the kitchen simultaneously cracking beers like a 8 gun salute.

The great thing about this crew and that they are so wide eyed and innocent. They don't judge anyone, they are still finding their world and I even have some doubts if they will ever be jaded. I miss that enthusiasm, that is what has aged me, and I pray that someday I can get it back. They are a great bunch of people, and I hope they have the time of their lives on this trip. I didn't stay long, I was getting confused about which of the 40 beer cans on the counter was mine. It was like playing Russian roulette, any moment I was due to get the day old beer filled with cigarettes. It reminded me so much of my halcyon days.

I said my goodbyes and headed off into the night.

I'm off to Cranbrook tomorrow for the week. It's my first time there and I'm a little excited. Tonia is driving thru on Wedenesday, and I'm going to get to see Sammy for the first time in a while as well. Should be fun.

I also was to put a shout out to my good friend Michael Toby who had a little health setback this weekend. Mike, my thoughts are with you and I wish you the fastest of recoveries. And I hope to see you at our regular meeting place as soon as I get back to town.

I Think We're Through the Looking Glass People (The Sudden Realization That You are 40)

It's a good thing that I write these at night and post in the day, because it's TOO DAMN HOT to write. I don't ever remember a cooker June like this. I'm usually in a constant state of simmer, so these temperatures are surely not my friend.

I know it's been awhile between updates. As I have alluded before, the people in my work crew are busy, but I suppose it is better to be busy than unemployed. In a perverse sort of way I always like being busy anyhow, takes my mind off of things.

Anyhow, I'll cut to the chase. A few weeks ago all of my droogs headed to Whistler for a golfing trip. I was supposed to go, but opted out in the end. It had slow weekend written all over it, and I didn't mind a bit.

I have this somewhat undeserved reputation as a party animal, only in certain circles of course. Those that really know me know the opposite to be true. It's just one of those urban legends. Something left from the old days I suppose. I had one girlfriend that in a mean and nasty fashion would call me a fratboy. I would normally blow stuff like that off, but I did find it mean, uninformed, and self-serving. Turns out in the end all she really cared about was herself anyhow, and now even the thought can evoke no more than a shoulder shrug from me. (There was another girlfriend that said I was a better talk show host than a boyfriend, but I actually dug that one).

I turned up at the pub around 3:30, if was a beautiful day and I thought I would stake out my claim for happy hour. Steve was already there, and he was already joined by Jamie and Janet. Jamie and Janet are two Irish girls in their early twenties that have decided to turn North America on its ass the Irish was. They are on a little tour with about 10 guy friends and have set up command at a rental house around the corner from the pub. I can't understand a damn word they are saying, but they are always fun to hang out with.

I always have a bit of game on when everyone is away. I don't know what it is, but I just feel like I can kick back more, kinda a no witnesses thing I suppose. The girls have next to no money, and at this point were living without any hot water (although they seem to have no problem getting into hot water anytime they want). I bought them a couple of rounds, as did Steve (I think, I'm still trying to piece this together), and before you knew it I had my thumb up and my finger pointing gun like indicating it was shooter time.

They had already had a rough night, and as I recall, they had just gotten up. But there isn't an Irishman (or woman) out there that will turn down a shooter. I decided to take it easy on them and got some broken down golf carts. Sort of Kool-Aid on steroids with some booze thrown on top for good measure. I was loosening up, feeling pretty damn good actually. Jamie was laughing, and Steve seemed to be getting into it. Janet on the other hand got those little "TILT" signs in her eyes that you always see in the old Looney Tunes cartoons. Before you knew it she said she would be right back and vanished.

It was already about 9:30 around this point, and the bar was showing one of those damn UFC fights, so the barrel scrapings of humanity now populated the pub. One chap stumbled out later on wearing an Irish soccer team jacket, it was the only authentic thing on his person as he soon started throwing around this bogus Irish accent. It's something that has always burned me, it is one thing to use an accent in jest, but to pretend to be something you're not....fuck off.

Jamie called him out pretty damn fast. She blasted off about five questions at him I didn't even understand, and then said to him "You're not Irish, go back to Winnipeg or wherever you're from ya faker." Nothing makes a guy stand up for himself like about 6 litres of lager and a UFC fight. He just didn't want to let it go, and I finally had to turn to him with that little bit of madness I can get in my eyes. He soon moved over to another table further from us, but continued to bitch the whole night through about the girl from Dublin that put him in his place.

We decided to wrap up around 11. Even though Jamie lived around the corner I told her I would give her a lift home as "The Faker" was still staring her down. We left after I paid my first triple digit bill in a while (she walked out on her tab) and headed down. I pulled in the drive and she asked me to pop up for a drink. I was close enough to home, so I figured why not. She was locked out of course. She figured other than Janet, all of her mates were over town where they were watching a rugby game during the day. She proceeded to bang on every window and door, and press everything that even remotely looked like a door bell.

Oops, times running out.

To be continued.....